Author's infos

George Belfield was in a sweat as he climbed the
stairs in a brownstone on West 24th Street. Was she home
or was she out? Maybe she wasn't home yet. He always
liked it better when she was home. If she wasn't home he'd
have to wait for her, and any time he spent alone in the
building always unnerved him. He felt like an outsider, an
interloper, even the smells from the various kitchens
seemed totally strange to him.
Now he arrived on the landing of the third floor and
he approached her door with hesitation. He was thankful he
hadn't seen anyone on the stairs. It wasn't much past six
o'clock, and at this time in the evening there were usually
a few people climbing or descending the stairs that ran up
the center of the small building. But not this evening.
He knocked on the door. After a long moment the door
opened and Irma stood there smiling at him.
"Hello, George."
He mumbled at her. "Hello, Irma." He walked into the
foyer, and then he stood there waiting while she closed and
locked the door behind him.
"And how've you been, George?"
"Very well."
"Did you have a nice week?"
She always liked to talk about his week, ask him where
he went and what he did, all the details of the life he had
that was so totally different from her own. She wanted to
hear about the Park Avenue parties. She loved hearing
about the Park Avenue parties. She poured some Scotch
into a glass and handed it to George. He took a few sips
of the Scotch, and after that he started removing his
clothes. Irma sat down on the sofa and held her glass of
Scotch as she watched him. He removed all his clothes
except his shorts, and then he sat down on the carpet at
her feet. She smiled down at him. "Comfy,
George?"
"I'm fine, Irma."
He didn't like to look up at her when he was sitting
on the floor like this. It was too difficult, because then
their eyes would meet and he'd feel silly. He felt silly
anyway, he always did at the beginning of it, but looking
at her face would make it worse. He felt silly and at the
same time he felt excited. Sitting almost naked at her
feet while she was still dressed always thrilled him and he
could already feel his penis getting stiff. When she
wiggled one of her feet, he leaned over and kissed her
shoe. There was no need for her to tell him to do it
because they both knew the routine. She was wearing pretty
black shoes with high heels and thin ankle straps. He
kissed the point of the shoe and then her instep. The feel
of the silk stocking against his lips excited him
tremendously, and as he moved his lips up to her ankle, his
excitement increased. Irma pulled back the hem of her
dress to expose her calves, and this was a welcome sign to
him that she wanted more leg kissing.
He kissed the calf and shin of one leg, and then he
moved his lips to the other leg and he did the same. While
he did this, he held her ankles with his hands, his fingers
gently rubbing the fine bones.
Irma pulled her dress back even further, and now her
thighs were exposed above the tops of her stockings.
Another tug at the dress, and then she opened her thighs
wide to reveal everything. She wore no panties, nothing at
all to cover her belly and sex. The stockings were held up
by garter bands, the tops of the stockings rolled over them
to keep them in place, and above that the milk-white skin
continued upward until the joining of her thighs appeared.
She had a large hairy sex, and the way her thighs were
splayed open now exposed everything.
George shuddered as he looked at it. He felt a
definite tension in his penis as he stared at the dark
hair, the hairy lips and the arrangement of pink and red
between them. Irma had an unusually prominent clitoris,
and as he looked at it now it appeared to twitch several
times.
She slid her pelvis forward a few inches, and once
again there was no need for her to tell him what to do
because they both knew the routine. He leaned forward to
press his face against the hair and the warm sex. At first
he did nothing but sniff at it, his senses overwhelmed by
the heady smells, the mixture of cologne and sweat and
feminine flesh and a hint of urine on the hairs. He had
his nose pressed against the top part of her clitoris and
that's where he kept it. Irma closed her thighs against
his ears, not enough to make it difficult for him to
breathe, but just enough to keep his head securely in
place.
He felt the upper part of her body moving, and in a
moment he heard the radio come on suddenly. She'd reached
over to the table at the end of the sofa and she'd switched
it on while she kept his head imprisoned.
He heard a voice out of the radio. Who was it? Then
he recognized it. It was Walter Damrosch babbling
something about Wagner. George kept his face pressed
against Irma's sex and he ignored the radio. Was she
actually listening to Damrosch? He knew so little about
her. She worked as a saleswoman in one of the Seventh
Avenue department stores, but he wasn't sure whether she
sold ladies underwear or ladies dresses. Anyway, what
difference did it make? All he cared about at the moment
was the feel of all the hair on his mouth and cheeks. He
started licking her pussy now. He kept his nose pressed
against her big clitoris as he worked his tongue around the
soft flesh between her labia.
As he sucked Irma's juices, he thought about Claire
and his marriage. He wondered what Claire would think if
she saw him now. Would she roll her eyes? Would she
faint? Or would she simply nod her head and declare that
he'd gone mad? What a ridiculous thing it was to be more
familiar with Irma's cunt than with the cunt of his own
wife. In all the years of their marriage, he'd never done
to Claire what he was now doing to Irma. He was certain
Claire would refuse if he ever tried to do it, and if she
did allow it just once she'd hold it against him forever.
He imagined the way she'd sneer at him with her eyes.
Claire had a way of doing that: she knew how to change the
appearance of her eyes so they sneered at you.

He kept his tongue moving. Irma had once told him he
was no good to her down there if he did nothing but sniff
it and kiss it. She told him she wanted to feel his tongue
everywhere, especially on her clitoris and inside the hole.
So he did that now. He licked the knob of her clitoris,
and then he moved his tongue lower down to lick the opening
of her vagina.
Then Irma spoke to him:
"I'm expecting a friend to arrive any minute."
George froze, his body motionless, his mouth still
pressed against Irma's wet sex lips. She kept her thighs
closed around his head and there was no way he could move
even if he wanted to.
"Her name is Helen," Irma said. "I'm sure you'll like
her, George. In any case, it's what I want, isn't it? Go
on then, don't stop what you were doing, George."
He started licking her clit again. This time she used
both hands to hold his head, and as his tongue moved up and
down in her furrow she pushed his head around in circles.
He had done it this way often enough to know that when she
had both hands on his head it meant she'd reach a climax
soon. He licked harder, his nose rubbing her clitoris
while his tongue tickled her tunnel, and before long she
raised her knees up and groaned as she reached a crisis.

She kept him there, kept his face pressed against her
wet sex as the spasms made her body shake. He continued
licking her cleft with his tongue until finally she placed
a foot on one of his shoulders and she pushed him away.
"That's enough, George." He fell away on the carpet on
his back, his erect cock sticking out of the fly of his
shorts. Irma kept her thighs wide open, and as he looked
at her he could see the drenched slit of her pussy not
quite hidden by the hairy gaping lips.
Irma smiled as she looked down at his stiff penis.
"Look at that. You're excited, aren't you? Come closer to
me, George. I can't do anything to you if you're lying
there so far away from me."
He shifted his body on the carpet, sliding closer to
her until she could get her feet on him, her pretty shoes
with the high heels and thin ankle straps. He thought his
wife had shoes like these, but he wasn't sure. In any
case, these were Irma's shoes and not Claire's, and it was
Irma who had her shoes on his body.
The first thing she did was push the toe of one shoe
at his mouth. He'd expected it, indeed he was waiting for
it, and as soon as the toe of the shoe touched his lips he
opened his mouth to accept it. Irma muttered something as
she pushed more of the shoe inside his mouth, and when he
turned his eyes to look at her belly he saw that she had
her hand between her thighs.
He sucked the toe of her shoe awhile, and then she
pulled the shoe out of his mouth and she placed her foot
directly on his erect cock. She flattened the organ
against his belly, rolling it from side to side with the
sole of her shoe while she smiled down at him.
"Are you hot, George?"
"Yes."
"You'll be nice to Helen, won't you?"
"Yes."
"She's a dear friend and I've told her all about you.
Don't worry, she'll keep our secret, George. But you're
going to do what you're told, aren't you?"
And at that moment the doorbell rang and George
realized that Irma's friend had arrived.
"Just stay where you are," Irma said, pulling away
from George and then rising from the sofa.
He lay there trembling, more uncertain of things than
ever before, and also more thrilled. The idea of a
complete stranger being privy to his secret life with Irma
was an exquisite shock. You want it, he thought. Irma
certainly knew a great deal about him. Or maybe she didn't
and she just didn't care one way or the other. He was
merely a toy that she used to amuse herself, and now she
wanted her friend to share in her amusement.
He obeyed Irma and he remained stretched out on the
carpet. When Irma and her friend approached him, he looked
up and he saw an attractive woman who appeared to be Irma's
age. She smiled down at him. "Hello, George. I've heard
a lot about you."
Then her amused eyes shifted to his groin, and George
blushed when he suddenly realized his penis was still
protruding from the opening in his shorts.
"That's a cute dingus," Helen said with a laugh.

The two women moved away from him, and George lay
there and listened as Irma poured some Scotch out of the
bottle for Helen. They talked quietly, the words
indistinct, but he was certain they were talking about him.
Once again a quiver of excitement went through him as he
realized he was now in the power of two women instead of
just one. And he did like Helen. She was definitely as
attractive as Irma, and he couldn't help wondering what she
looked like without clothes.
But he was also uneasy. Irma was more or less
predictable because he'd spent a dozen or so evenings with
her and he had an idea what to expect. Helen was something
new. And there was also the possibility the presence of
Helen might make Irma act differently toward him. He
decided it was too confusing and the best thing was not to
think about it. Whatever Irma wanted, he knew he would do
it anyway. He looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall
opposite him and he was thankful it was still early enough
for them to do things. As usual, he'd already telephoned
home while he was at the office and he'd told the maid it
would be a late evening for him.
Irma led Helen back to the sofa, and they sat down
near George while they continued sipping their drinks.
When he looked at them and saw the Scotch in the glasses,
he guessed it must be their second drink. Irma's third.
Or maybe it was also Irma's second. Irma's second and
Helen's second. You're nervous, he thought. You're too
damn nervous.
Now Irma smiled down at George. "Comfy again, honey?"
"Yes," George said.
"Do Helen," Irma said. "She wants to see if you're
any good at licking a pussy."
He shifted his body around until he crouched in front
of Helen. She seemed to be laughing at him as he took one
of her feet in his hands and ran his fingers over her shoe
and ankle. Her shoes weren't as pretty as Irma's, but she
had dainty feet and beautiful legs. He heard her laugh
softly as he bent his head forward to kiss her instep.

"Oh, I like this," Helen said.
Irma chuckled. "I thought you would."
"I think I'm drunk."
"It's good Scotch, isn't it?"
George kissed Helen's legs, first her shoes and ankles
and then her calves and knees. Irma leaned toward Helen
and whispered something in Helen's ear and Helen giggled.
Then Helen pulled her dress back far enough to get her
hands on her panties, and she lifted her buttocks and
pushed them down to her knees.
"Don't sit there gawking," Irma said to George. "Help
her get her panties off."
George obeyed her, his hands trembling as he pulled
Helen's panties off her legs. She still had her dress
pulled up to her waist, and now she giggled again as she
opened her thighs to expose her cunt.
George felt his heart pounding as he stared at it.
She wasn't as hairy as Irma and the hair was a lighter
color. He thought her cunt looked prettier than Irma's,
but maybe that was because Helen had such lovely plump
thighs. George had never been impressed with the current
craze for skinny women. He liked Helen's type the best,
pretty legs and solid thighs and a large bust. It was easy
to see she had more bust than Irma, and he hoped he'd have
a look at her breasts before long.
Irma slipped an arm around Helen's shoulders. "Slide
forward, dearie. Put your legs on George's shoulders and
he'll have a go at you."
Helen chuckled as she slid her pelvis forward on the
sofa cushion. Her stockings were held up by garters
attached to a girdle, and now the garters stretched as she
raised her legs to get them over George's shoulders.
"How's that?" Helen said.
Irma stroked Helen's shoulder with her fingers. "Go
on, George."
George was already overcome by the perfume and
feminine scent wafting up to his nose from Helen's crotch,
and now he closed his eyes and he leaned forward to get his
mouth directly on her cunt. Helen made a whimpering
sound of pleasure.
George pushed his face against the silky softness, and
in a moment he was delighted to feel how wet it was. Irma
usually took awhile before her fountain started flowing,
but Helen was already soaked enough so that some of her
juices immediately dripped on his chin.
"You like the way George eats pussy?"
"You can bet I like it," Helen said with a laugh.

"I told you," Irma said.
"Oh yes."
George kept his mouth pressed against Helen's sex as
the two women continued talking and drinking. Now that the
ice was broken, he felt completely comfortable with Helen.
He wanted to please her the way he always pleased Irma.
She was Irma's good friend, wasn't she? After a while he
lifted his eyes to see what they were doing and he was
shocked to see the two of them kissing. It wasn't just a
kiss of two friends, it was a kiss of two lovers. George
had never seen anything like it except on a French postcard
and he couldn't take his eyes away from them. His
excitement became more intense as he watched Irma's hand
move over the front of Helen's dress to fondle Helen's big
breasts. Was this the first time for them? George
continued sucking Helen's wet pussy as he watched Irma and
Helen kiss and fondle each other. He had a fierce
erection, his penis sticking out of the front of his shorts
and twitching out of control.
Then suddenly Helen moaned against Irma's lips and she
started spending on George's mouth. She closed her thighs
around his head the same way as Irma always did it, but
then she opened them even wider than before and her hips
began bouncing up and down on the sofa cushion.
George held on, his mouth clamped to Helen's wet
throbbing pussy, his lips sucking at the plentiful syrup
that seemed to gush out of her cleft.
When Helen was finished spending, Irma pulled away
from her and she looked down at George with a flushed face.
"Stand up and strip," Irma said. "Come on, George, hurry
up."
His face wet with Helen's secretions, George stood up
on the carpet, unbuttoned his shorts and dropped them down
to his feet to step out of them. Helen giggled and
immediately leaned forward to take hold of his genitals
with both hands. She gripped his penis in one hand and his
testicles in the other hand and she slipped her mouth over
the entire length of his prick. She turned her head to
smile at Irma. "What should I do?"
"Nothing now," Irma said. "Let's get our clothes off
first." So Helen released George's genitals, and he had
to step back to make room for the two women as they rose up
to undress. Of course all his attention was devoted to
Helen because he'd already seen Irma naked so many times.
When they had their clothes off, Helen revealed a ripe body
with pendulous breasts and heavy buttocks. Irma's breasts
were much smaller than Helen's, but the lush growth of hair
at the joining of Irma's thighs was an adequate
compensation.
Irma said she wanted George to suck her. She sat down
on the sofa in the usual position, and she ordered George
to get to work immediately. He hurried to obey her. She
was obviously drunk, and when Irma was drunk she could
sometimes be mean. She'd never been too mean with him in
the past, but he was always afraid it might start sometime.

After George sucked Irma awhile, he was told to move
over to do the same to Helen. Her pubic hair and the
insides of her thighs were still sopping wet from the first
time, and George's excitement was intense as he buried his
face in her hot wet pussy. This time she was completely
naked, and each time he lifted his eyes upward he had a
delicious view of her large breasts and long nipples.
Irma couldn't keep her hands off Helen and was sucking
her nipples and eventually stood up on the cushions of the
sofa facing Helen and lowered her cunt onto her friends
sucking mouth. George was thrilled as he looked up
between her thighs and saw Irma's cunt lips gaping open as
Helen's tongue sloshed up and down the length of her wet
dripping gash.
Helen spent again under George's mouth, her body
shaking as much as it had the first time. When she finally
pushed his face away from her sex, she laughed and rolled
her eyes at him. "You're good, sweetie."
"You're good too Darling, I love it when you eat my
pussy" Irma said to Helen
Irma kicked George with her foot. "Get the toy and
the oil, George."
George trembled. He'd been afraid all along she'd get
to that. He felt extremely uneasy about doing that sort of
thing with Helen present because he hardly knew her. But
he could tell by the tone of Irma's voice that she wouldn't
allow him to refuse, so he rose up from the carpet and he
hurried to the kitchen.
When he returned to the living room, he had a large
rubber vibrating cock and a bottle of olive oil in his
hands. While he'd been gone, Irma had been kissing Helen
and feeling her breasts, and now she pulled away from Helen
and she took the vibrator and olive oil from George. "Now
George gets what he needs," Irma said with a laugh.
Helen smiled as she looked at George. "You don't mind
me watching, do you, George?"
He shook his head. He was terribly nervous. Now it
wasn't Helen presence so much as it was Irma's attitude.
Tonight Irma seemed drunk enough to hurt him, and that was
the one thing he always feared.
Irma moved her hand up the long thick vibrator, and
she held it between her legs as she poured some olive oil
out of the bottle on one of her palms. She then proceeded
to smear the oil over the rounded end of the rubber cock.
"Down on the carpet, George." He dropped to his knees
and elbows, his buttocks facing the two women and his body
now visibly trembling. He closed his eyes and he waited,
and soon he felt Irma pushing the oiled end of the rubber
cock against his anus.
"I always try to be careful," Irma said with a hiccup.
Then she laughed. "We don't want to hurt poor George, do
we?"
He kept his eyes closed as Irma slowly pushed the
vibrating toy inside his rectum.
Irma spoke: "Go on, Helen. Why don't you do it if you
want." So now it was Helen who had her hands on the
toy cock. George heard her giggle as she began sliding the
entire length of that dildo in and out of his body.
"God, I love this," Helen said.
Irma laughed. "Careful, dearie."
George's cock was stiffer than ever, swollen and
palpitating as it dangled from his belly. He reached back
with one hand to take hold of it, and he started
masturbating as Helen continued sliding the vibrator in and
out of his anus.
It didn't take long. It never took long when he had
the thing in there. A guttural sound came out of his
throat as he squirted his juices on the carpet under his
belly.
Helen squealed as she watched it. "He's ruining your
carpet, Irma."
"Don't worry, he'll clean it up."
Irma was right, of course. After the wet smeared cock
was pulled out of George's bowels, Irma made George get the
rag from the kitchen sink to wipe the carpet clean. George
was exhausted as he did it, and when the carpet looked
clean enough he stretched out on his back beside the wet
spot to rest a bit.
The women talked again as George lay there with his
eyes closed. He wanted to run away from them now. His
instinct was to flee the madness, get out of the room, out
of the building, hail a cab in the street and hurry to the
safety of his family and his Park Avenue apartment. But he
felt like this at the end of every visit to Irma and he
knew it would pass.
Later, when it was time for George to leave, the two
women watched him dress while they sat naked on the sofa
with their arms around each other. Then Irma rose and she
escorted George to the front door of the apartment.
"Back next week, George?"
"Yes," George said.
After she kissed his cheek, he walked out of the
apartment wondering if he ought to look for a taxi in
Madison Square or on Sixth Avenue. Sometimes it was easier
in Madison Square and sometimes on Sixth Avenue. He was
never certain which direction to go when he left Irma's
place, and so this evening he did the usual thing and he
flipped a coin.